


Between Heaven & Hell

by Romalde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:38:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romalde/pseuds/Romalde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loosely based on the fanmade trailer 'Between Heaven & Hell' by YouTube user Sapphiamur.<br/>Dean is out for revenge after what happened to his brother when they were younger. Little does he know he is chosen by Heaven to become a Hunter and aid in the ongoing war against Hell and all its demons. He gets help from the angel Castiel, and they form a bond that defies all man- and heavenmade rules.<br/>Tagged for Major Character Death, but keep in mind that this is Supernatural we're talking about, and 'dead' doesn't always mean 'dead'. Will later on contain some epic Destiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**May 2 nd, 1995** _

_Dean knew what was going to happen before it did, as if time was moving in slow-motion._

“ _Dad, no!” he shouted. His voice sounded too high, too scared. This was what they had been looking for for years, the Colt, and now it was aimed at Sammy. The gun that could kill everything was pointed at his baby brother, by his father._

“ _Step aside, Dean,” his father said. “That's not Sam anymore and you know it.” Dean looked around to see he had indeed positioned himself right in front of his brother, who was tied to a chair helplessly._

“ _Oh, I wouldn't say I'm helpless, Dean,” Sam said, yellow flashing brightly behind his eyes, the corners of his lips twisted up in a maniacal grin. Next thing he knew, he was thrown against the wall and a louder, deeper thud to his right told him his father had been, too. He crawled up as fast as he could, but not fast enough. John was already pointing the Colt at Sam again._

“ _Stop it, dad! Sam's still in there!”_

_A wave of Sam's hands and Dean and John were both pinned against the wall they just had been slammed into, the ropes with which Sam had been tied up falling to the ground as if they were never tied. He moved up to Dean as if he had all the time in the world._

“ _You still don't get it,” he said, looking at Dean with wonder. “I'm not being controlled, Dean. This?” he said, gesturing at his bright yellow eyes, “This is all me. I made this choice myself, Dean, and it's the best thing I've ever done. The power, it's... overwhelming.” To demonstrate, he flicked his wrist and John slid sideways, to be slammed into the wall on his right, repeatedly. He didn't fall down afterward but hung limply and seemingly unconscious, restrained by invisible bonds. Dean struggled, but it was like trying to free himself from concrete._

“ _Sam, you listen to me, you can fight this!” He said through his teeth, forcing himself to look his brother in the eyes. That inhuman grin was still plastered on the face he knew so well, but he forced himself to go on. He would get Sammy through this, one way or another. “We've been through worse than this, right? Just don't let it take you! Don't believe a word you're – ”_

 _A loud bang resonated through the room. A flash on the right side of Sam's head, followed shortly by a splutter of blood on the left side. A crackle of what seemed like electricity lighting up his young face from the inside. John panting in his invisible restraints, the Colt still aimed. Slowly, ever so slowly, Sam fell down to the ground. A second later, so did John and Dean._  

* * *

 

 **Jun 23 rd, 1998** 

Eye witnesses had said that the monster in Bear Lake, Utah, was 90 feet long, shaped like a giant snake but with ears that stuck out from the side of its skinny head and with a mouth that was easily big enough to eat a man. It could swim faster than a horse could gallop, could probably make a mile a minute on a good day. If only that had really been the monster in the lake. No, Dean was stuck with a fucking Kappa. Talk about grossly overdone sightings.

Getting rid of a Kappa was easy enough in theory. You just had to get the water out of the plate-shaped area on top of their heads. Lore said that this was the very source of their power. Remove the water, get rid of their supernatural skills and the little beast might die from it as well. However, these sons of bitches were troublemakers by nature, so Dean felt a little under armed going in with a sponge and a towel instead of his usual guns.

A trail of human blood – skillfully stolen from the nearest blood bank – had been laid out to lure the Kappa out of the water. Dean had made sure to pick a place downwind to wait for the little monster to arrive. However, he had gone and hid in the bushes about an hour ago and his legs were cramping up, not to mention that his back was starting to protest as well. To top it all off, he had had the feeling he was being watched for the past fifty minutes, and kept glancing up to the trees. No way that a Kappa would hide so high from the ground, but Dean's trained instincts kept telling him there was something up there.

He shrugged the feeling off when a nearby bush started rustling. He calmed his breathing to be near inaudible and reaffirmed his grip on his sponge. Out came the little ugly-ass Kappa, lapping up blood where it had puddled. It was roughly humanoid, about the size of a child, but its skin was scaled and a murky yellow and its eyes seemed unnaturally bright in the dimmed light of the woods.

When it got up from one puddle of blood to move to the next, Dean moved closer to it as well, keeping a keen eye out on where he placed his feet so to not step on any branches and hoping the soft rustle of the leaves he was standing on would be masked by the Kappa's own movement. They kept up this little dance until Dean was just a little more than a foot away from the monster. Taking his chance when it bent over a puddle again, he leaped up from his hiding place, sponge aimed for the plate on its head. The Kappa looked up in surprise, but it was too late.

The sponge hit its mark, sucking up most of the water and Dean quickly grabbed his towel from where it was tucked in his back pocket to wipe out the rest. Immediately, the yellow of the Kappa's scales turned gray and the creature swayed on its little feet, disoriented and weakened. Not wanting to stick around to see whether the loss of its powers would kill the Kappa, Dean tossed both sponge and towel to the side to grab his knife from his boot. Before he could get up though, the Kappa lurched forward and hooked his teeth right into Dean's forearm. He yelped and shook his arm hard, trying to shake the bastard off, but it had a grip like a pit-bull and wouldn't let go.

“Oh for fuck's sake,” Dean muttered and switched his knife to his left hand to make quick work of decapitating the creature. As its lifeless body fell to the ground with a soft thud, its jaw unclenched and soon the head fell down next to it.

Dean examined the bite mark it left. It wasn't deep, but it hurt like a bitch. He made quick work of putting pressure on the wound by tying it off with a pocket hanky and made the phone call to Bobby to tell him he'd gotten rid of the Kappa.

“Is it dead?” was the first thing Bobby said to him.

“Glad to hear you're still alive as well,” Dean said, walking back to where he'd parked his baby.

“Don't get cute with me, boy. That thing was turning into a real pain in the ass to the folks around that lake.”

“Yeah, it's dead Bobby. Its head is now a good foot away from his body, if that counts.”

“Good. When can I expect you back here?”

“Even with some sleep I could make it to you in a day, so you'll probably see me somewhere tomorrow. Why, something you wanna tell me?” Dean stepped out from the bushes onto a dirt road, right where the Impala was waiting for him. He pulled open the door, got in and started the engine, still reveling in the gentle purr and the rumble it sent through the entire car.

“What, a man can't want to see his friend's boy every now and then?”

“Bobby.”

“Alright, alright, there have been a couple of sketchy murders here in Sioux Falls. Heart missing from all the victims.”

“You think it might be a werewolf?”

“Could be. Either way, I'd sure as hell like you to look into it.”

“Got it. On my way.”

Dean hung up, put his phone in the glove compartment and let out a high pitched sound he would forever deny making if anyone asked about it afterward. Then again, there was suddenly someone sitting in the passenger seat, someone who he hadn't seen or heard coming in, so it wasn't as if he didn't have good cause.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed. “The fuck are you doing in my car, man? Get out!”

“Hello Dean Winchester,” the man said, and from all the responses Dean had expected, that was not it. However, seeing as this strange man somehow knew his name, he didn't waste any time fishing for the flask of holy water he kept in his breast pocket and threw some in the stranger's face.

“I am not a demon,” the stranger merely said, not even spluttering at the sudden amounts of moist in his face. Dean reached for the knife in his boot again to nick the stranger's arm, keeping it aimed at his heart in case he showed a reaction to the silver.

“Nor am I a werewolf or shifter. Quite contrary, I am here to offer you protection.”

“Yeah, okay man,” Dean said, not believing a word of it. He lifted his arm back a bit and thrusted the knife at the creature's heart, but the knife landed in the seat of the car. There was a knock on his window.

“I may have approached you in the wrong manner. I should have introduced myself properly,” the stranger said from outside the car, raising his voice to be heard through the window. “My name is Castiel. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

Dean opened the door of his car, thereby effectively shoving the man out of the way.

“The hell? Who are you?” He demanded.

“I told you,” Castiel said. “I am the one to protect you. You can put down the knife. This is a good thing, Dean.”

“The hell it is,” Dean growled, “I'm not buying what you're selling, so what are you really?”

“Good things do happen, Dean,” Castiel said.

“Not in my experience.”

Castiel remained silent, looking at Dean with a blank expression.

“I see now that I have indeed handled this wrongly,” he said, eventually. “My apologies. I will take you to Bobby Singer so that you may contemplate and pray about this encounter.”

“What?” Dean said, completely puzzled now. Castiel simply put his hand on the Impala and raised his other to press two fingers against Dean's forehead. The next moment, they were in Bobby's scrap yard and Dean felt as if he'd had all air knocked out of him. He tried to find his bearings and fixed his eyes on the strange man once more.

“My compliments on how you handled that Kappa today,” Castiel said as if they hadn't just traveled two states over in a split second. “I was impressed by your knowledge and how you kept your cool even when the creature attacked you.” At that moment it clicked in Dean's head that this 'man' must have been what had been watching him from the trees.

“Cas...” he said, deciding that whatever this guy was doing and whoever he was, Castiel was a weird name for anyone, “are you God?” The man actually showed a hint of a smile at this.

“That's a nice compliment, but no. I am an Angel of the Lord. We shall meet again, Dean Winchester.” At that, he took a step backwards and disappeared into thin air, leaving Dean bewildered in the middle of the scrapyard. 

* * *

 

 _ **January 24 th, 1979**_ 

_The baby in the crib before him didn't look like he would ever hunt anything, let alone be chosen by Heaven to be a Hunter. Yet here he was, on the day of Dean Winchester's birth, being assigned to him._

“ _Dean Winchester seems to be destined to have a troubled future. He will require special care and must be approached with caution when the time is near,” his superior, Zachariah, was telling him. The baby of course couldn't hear them as they were invisible to any human perception._

“ _He shall have a brother, who will not share in his destiny,” his superior went on, and something flashed through his eyes. Concern? That seemed highly improbable._

“ _His mother shall die when he is still a boy, his brother shall cease to exist at the tender age of twelve and his father will take his own life shortly after. You must understand that this is great cause of emotional distress for humans. You will find Dean Winchester a broken young man at the time when he is ready to be a Hunter.”_

_Castiel took a step closer to the crib, barely being tall enough to look over the edge himself. He was only created himself a couple of years ago, after all._

“ _It is your job,” Zachariah said, “to help him and keep him focused. To protect him from any harm that might come on him, be it physical or mental, so that he may remain concentrated on his task. Do you understand, Castiel?”_

“ _Yes, superior,” Castiel said. He bent down and squatted in front of the crib, glancing through the bars. “He cannot see me, correct?” He asked his superior._

“ _No, he can't. Not unless you show yourself to him.”_

“ _May I?” He asked, looking up at Zachariah. The angel nodded._

“ _He is yours to protect. You may reveal yourself to him at any time you deem to be the right time. I must remind you that he will not remember it if you show yourself to him now, though. Mankind's mind can only be sharpened by age, unlike our own minds.”_

_Castiel nodded, closed his eyes and focused on existing on this plane. He knew he was successful when the baby in front of him immediately locked his eyes with Castiel's. He didn't cry, didn't even so much as murmur, but just looked at him._

“ _Hello Dean Winchester,” Castiel whispered softly, sticking one hand through the bars of the crib to give a quick blessing to the child. When his fingers touched the baby's forehead, it immediately grabbed hold of them with a vice grip, never looking away from Castiel's face. Behind him, Zachariah let out a huff of breath._

“ _It seems he recognizes you for what you are,” he said. “He recognizes the bond already. Highly unusual.”_

_Castiel couldn't help but smile, and was glad that superior Zachariah couldn't see it. After all, angels in training were highly discouraged to express emotion. As soon as the training was complete, expressing emotion wasn't allowed at all anymore and even still feeling it was frowned upon. However, he let himself have this moment with his future protege._

“ _We should leave,” Zachariah said. “His mother is coming up.” Castiel nodded and focused on making himself imperceptible for humans again. Just in time, as Mary Winchester strode through the door a split second after. Zachariah and Castiel watched her as she looked down in the crib to check on her baby. She patted his head and smiled softly, like only a mother could._

“ _Sleep soundly, Dean,” she said. “Angels are watching over you.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I have been working on this story ever so slowly the entire time, but I actually uploaded part of it already >.>'  
> Anyhow, here's some more!

**June 24 th, 1998**

 

Bobby was hidden behind piles and piles of books. All that remained visible of the man behind his desk was his worn down green baseball cap. Every now and then, a loud groan would emerge from his general direction, usually followed by the noise of a book being closed aggressively.

“And you're absolutely sure he said he was an angel?” Bobby asked for the millionth time. “I mean, an _angel_?”

Dean was lying on the couch, absently running his fingers over the amulet around his neck, that Sam had given to him one Christmas. That had been before his little brother had started to change. He rubbed his hand over his mouth.

“Yes, Bobby. He said he was an Angel of the Lord. His words exactly.” Bobby groaned again. “What?” Dean said defensively. “I can't help what he said.”

“I know, boy,” Bobby said, getting up from his desk to pour himself a glass of whiskey. Dean elected to ignore that it was only eleven in the morning. “He might as well have said he was the Easter Bunny. Same amounts of lore and same level of credibility.” He downed the glass in one swallow. “Anything else that you remember? Anything at all?” Dean let his head fall back on the pillows of the couch with a groan of his own.

“He can zap me from two states over right to your front door without giving him an address. He can watch me without being seen – I only felt his presence, but I never saw anything,” Dean said and searched his mind for anything that might be useful at all. “All my instincts screamed at me to shoot him full of rock-salt, but at the same time I didn't really want to. If that makes sense at all.”

“Anything _new_ that you remember?” Bobby asked, dead panned.

“He told me to 'contemplate and pray' about it, whatever the hell that may mean.” Bobby looked at Dean with a frown.

“Well, have you?”

“Come again?” Dean asked, after a split second.

“Boy, if this angel of yours really is what he says he is, chances are he's up there in heaven or wherever he retreats for a little R&R, waiting for you to pray to him.” Dean was about to protest how ridiculous this sounded, but Bobby leaned back against his desk and folded his arms, face set in the usual stubborn streak he got whenever he thought Dean was too stupid to even exist. Dean knew a lost cause when he saw one.

“Alright, fine,” he said, getting up from where he was lying back on the couch and leaned his elbows on his knees, hands folded, and closed his eyes. “I feel stupid for even trying, but fine.” Bobby gave no response except for strengthening the glare he was throwing Dean's way. Dean scraped his throat.

“Dear Castiel who art possibly chilling his ass in heaven, I pray that you've got your ears on.” Dean opened one eye to glance at Bobby, who merely gestured for him to go on. “You told me to contemplate and pray and I think it's safe to say we've done our share of contemplating, so this is me praying. If you care to elaborate on what the hell is going on, please come on down. Amen, or something.” He opened his arms, but when nothing happened he gave Bobby his patented I-told-you-so look.

“Well it was worth the-” Bobby started, but was interrupted by the rustling of wings. Castiel was in the middle of the living room, in between Bobby and Dean, but he wasn't alone.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel said, inclining his head. The man with him was haughty looking and balding with eyes that were freakishly similar to a fish's eyes. “I was happy to receive your prayer.”

Dean, who had jumped back at the two men's sudden appearance, wasted no time on polite babble.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded. The fish-eyed man twisted his lip in a sneer.

“I'm Zacheriah,” he said, with a voice that was as haughty as his demeanor. “I'm Castiel's superior.” Where Castiel looked a little awkward in his body, Zacheriah was obviously completely comfortable in his slightly rotund form.

“I have asked Zacheriah to accompany me on my next visit to you. I believe he can explain better than I can,” Castiel said, still standing in the middle of the room, looking at Dean with a fixed stare that was slightly creepy. Zacheriah in the meantime was walking around the room, looking at Bobby's collection of information on the supernatural with a downward twist to his lips that clearly said that he found the books fully inferior.

“Well start explaining,” Dean said, standing up to get on equal ground with the supposed angels. Not to mention, it was harder to put up a proper defense if needed,when sitting down.

“Very well,” Zacheriah said. “May I ask for your Bobby Singer to leave this room, so that we can talk in private?” he demanded more than asked, somehow managing to look down on Bobby even though he was two or three inches shorter.

“Anything you have to say to me, you can say to Bobby,” Dean said. Zacheriah sighed.

“So be it. I believe Castiel has already tried to explain some of the basics to you, but he may have well missed out on some important parts.” Zacheriah had found his way to Bobby's liquor cabinet and stopped to smell the whiskey he found there. He poured himself a glass, much to Bobby's dismay, and pulled out a chair to sit down on before continuing. “Us angels, we are protectors.”

“So I've heard,” Dean said. “Tell me something we don't know yet.” Castiel's superior looked at him with a flat stare.

“We are guardians of this earth, in a manner. We all have different tasks in achieving this. I myself am in charge of several angels, to see to it that they perform well and do what they're supposed to. I answer to others who in turn answer to the arch angels. Most of us though, like Castiel, are field angels, if you please. Field angels are created for the sole purpose of being assigned to a human to help them in their Hunt. When you were born, Castiel was assigned to you, as your destiny was intertwined with the supernatural inescapably. You were meant to Hunt, to keep the balance between good and evil.” Zacheriah's face said that he didn't understand this decision whatsoever and supported it even less. Well, that was something Dean could get on board with.

“The hell I am. No way on earth that I'm going to be a puppet in your heavenly schemes,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Dean,” Castiel started, but Zacheriah raised his hand to silence him.

“I can understand that you don't believe me,” he said, “so I will show you.” He got up from his chair and without warning, pressed two fingers to Dean's forehead.

 

_Dean looked up from the werewolf's corpse, which was slowly transforming back into its human form. Like this, she didn't seem dangerous at all. Next to him, Sammy was crying silently and he reached out for his little brother's hand._

_“Well done boys,” their father said with a wide smile and clapped the two of them on their backs roughly. “Not bad for your first werewolf. Now let's get you patched up.” Dean looked down at his arm where the werewolf had tried to bite him, but had only managed to claw her way through his jacket and his skin._

 

“ _Sam, behind you!” their father yelled at them. Sammy, who was so small for his age it seemed impossible that he possessed any physical strength whatsoever, turned around swiftly and planted his dead man's blood soaked blade into the vampire before smoothly decapitating it with the machete in his other hand. Dean felt a rush of pride but was rudely interrupted from his line of thought when two other vampires closed in on him. He slipped through the big one's spread legs before chopping it's head off from behind, while his father took care of the smaller one._

 

“ _Sam, listen to me, you can fight this!” Dean said through his teeth, forcing himself to look his brother in the eyes. That inhuman grin was still plastered on the face he knew so well, but he forced himself to go on. He would get Sammy through this, one way or another. “We've been through worse than this, right? Just don't let it take you! Don't believe a word you're – ”  
 _A loud bang resonated through the room. A flash on the right side of Sam's head, followed shortly by a splutter of blood on the left side. A crackle of what seemed like electricity lighting up his young face from the inside. John panting in his invisible restraints, the Colt still aimed. Slowly, ever so slowly, Sam fell down to the ground.__  


 

_The aswang, who was fucking huge, was roughly shaped like a big black dog, save for its bloodshot but human eyes. Dean could only hope Bobby had been right about stabbing it with an iron blade, soaked in egg plant extract, of all things. He was about to sign to his father to take the other side when with a pang he was reminded of the fact that he now had to hunt alone. Still, it had to be done. He couldn't just call it quits just because he didn't have a team any more. He was a hunter, had always been one and would most likely die one. Yelling he rushed forward, knife pointing at the creature's heart._

 

Dean gasped for breath and reached for the wall, but his hands found Cas instead. The angel put Dean's arm around his shoulders, steadying him.

“You're a hunter, Dean. You get to change things. See?” Zacheriah said with a smug look on his face that Dean wanted to smack off more than anything in the world right now.

“Yeah,” he said instead. “Lucky me.” Zacheriah moved back a little, like he was going to sit down in the chair again, but apparently thought better of it.

“With heaven's help, you are no longer any normal hunter. You are a Hunter,” the capital was clearly audible, “and you will be much more capable to make a difference now that you have Castiel. You will start getting to know each other as soon as possible, so that you may be able to start Hunting together. You need but pray to Castiel to summon him. It is his duty to protect you, to be there for you when you need him. If you have any further questions, please ask him. I have wasted enough time on you already.” With that, Zacheriah vanished in thin air, leaving Castiel alone with Bobby and Dean.

 


End file.
